Some people tell a diary
Some people tell a friend
Some people try and fail and
yet, with such remaining fear – pretend.
So I keep a flow, “on” record,
for things I “cannot” say
for voicing “truths” unwelcomed
for reasons cant, yet, explain
The Truths about what scares me
the deepest parts of my Self
to see them all – to own them all –
two choices: “Speak, or Else.”
I shape the Truth with symbol,
with pictures, words, and style
implanting each with meaning –
with archetypes for miles
in stories, persons, places
in songs of current, past
for truth has spun for ages
and is speaking now, in past.
To tell a global people
on top of fucking lung
the things I know, though somehow, True
with meaning hidden, strung
The truths about my darkness
The truths about my light
The truths about all tangled things
The disjointed things inside
the truth about my feelings
the truth about my past
the truth about thinkings
and the truths I often mask.
the truth on written record
the truth a “read-it-back”
the truth with conscious no-filter
to later own and analyze all the facts
I speak my Truth in fullness,
One statement – as best I know how.
For you? For “me”? No – for my Self
For how dare I let us longer go unsounded?
A screaming of the knowing
of that which shakes the soul
Recording coldest nights during snowing,
the very fire that warms my chest.
I speak them here, these wordings,
in meanings where mine are hide
from eyes of blank and blackness
that shield them – hide them – full view.
The Truth is here, is layed open.
Let him who sees – see.
Though, warning – many dont see R rated movies
and unless bludgedned be their Saviors hands and feet.
So I spin them and weave them
and allign them all with meaning
that children can see –
not lawyers, not thieves –
the ones who know “Once upon a time”‘s
to shield them, though reveal them, and THERE –
there now betrays the “lie”
The things you feel? The truths you speak?
Go someplace else – over there now, bye.
It’s hard to understand it –
they teach us when we’re 3
to stand for “truth and justice”
like Hero’s on the screen.
but blink & everyone’s different.
and Hollywood’s all wrong
the good guys say
“be you, speak true”
but lip sink empty songs.
Full Truth – it does no “hiding.”
It doesn’t cover, fear, or run.
It says whats-whats and “this is that”
and open fields of sun.
“Transparency” is glass,
but unbreakable, unshattered, in place
if Self were such arrangement
no touch, no taunt could displace
the peace behid this curtain – or, glass wall –
of “transparency” as now seen, and now defined,
as how I relate to one, despite how one may relate to me.
Ive known the path “Im truthful –
ive confessed my deepest wrong”
But I now I know there’s deeper:
There’s Shadow, & Anima’s trickiest songs
Truth raises shouts for Justice
for else Truth croak and die
for all Truth be a single being
without blanket, hand, or light.
When truth becomes a slogan
and mocks the fire which burns it burn.
it rages, weeps, a dragon – suffocating – unheard.
The depths of hell are empty.
I tell you – no one’s is “there”
but thousands of truths,
alone, in dark trees
in panic from silence in there.
So I speak my truth my symbol
To remind myself of Me,
for trust I not from my wounds,
but woundings show indeed
where to dig and prod such loving
such gently, sweetly hands
now strong and soft and knowing
that I’ve got you now, let go –
I’ll take us home from here
as the fear that paralyzed me
leaves.
With strength as manliest measure,
and strength being awareness of Self
and willing to battle the monster
to conquer him, wield him, become Master –
his awareness of Self as a realness
of seeing himself for himself
and finding the strength just to love him
with full fullness – conditions? Not one –
is a strength of strongest warrior
though none may hear it sung
but One.
